


The Hanged Man's Prize

by Meloncholor



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fade to Black, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mafia AU, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Rutting, Smut, Vlad is a frisky boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meloncholor/pseuds/Meloncholor
Summary: You are hired by the famous crime lord Vlad Tepes, and his interests start to reach far beyond the scope of your duties.





	1. Prologue

“Adrian, he’s the last one.” he swirled the wine in his crystalline glass. “I just got confirmation from Isaac a few minutes ago.” The office was hot. Father never opened his windows and the early summer heat was just cooking the small space. The curtains were drawn completely closed and the sun shone through, turning the room a sinister shade of red. His expensive cigar sat in its ashtray, fogging up Adrian’s vision and making it smell of cherries. Vlad sat lordly over his desk, a map of NYC spread out under his fingers. “One more and the Belmont clan is completely erased from the stinking slums where they seem to spawn from.” He took a thoughtful sip, savoring the dryness of it. “Once that bumbling child of a descendant is gone we’ll have an all clear to move in.” He stood from his chair, dragging his sharp nails on the polished wood as he moved around it. He took another sip of the wine. “I’m putting you in charge of this.” He sets a hand on Adrian’s shoulder, who had been standing just in front of the desk.

He sighed. “If you say so, father.”

“I do say so, Adrian. And I hope you understand the gravity of our situation.” His fatherly tone turned darker, the mirth absent from his eyes. Vlad releases the boy from his grip, turning back to the crimson curtains. “You’re dismissed for the evening. And call Isaac and Hector for me, I have some plans I need to discuss.”

“Of course father.” Adrian nods and turns to exit his father’s office. 

 

The door closes behind him and the sound echoes down the hall in both directions. He sighs. Father never changes. Adrian walked towards the sound of the other office workers, easily distinguished by the unpleasant  _ brrrriiiing! _ from their typewriters. Heading down the corridor he came to another door, marked  **PUBLIC OFFICES** . Without warning, he barged in on the two men in opposite facing desks, each hunched over a typewriter of their own. Their workspace was evenly divided between the two. The right was impeccable, clean and well organized. The trash was empty and the man sitting at the desk had perfect poised posture. The man on the left was a bit more disheveled, but there were noticeably more pictures and personal items revolving mostly around pets.

“Oh! Hello young Mr.Tepes, I didn’t think we’d see you today!” The one on the left smiled, pausing his work and standing to greet the young man. As Adrian shook the offered hand the other one checked his watch, but strangely enough, did not stop typing. 

“You weren’t scheduled for an appointment with Mr. Tepes for another few hours.”

“He wants to speak to you both in his office, he has some plans he wanted to discuss.” He rolled his eyes and tossed a lock of hair from his shoulder. “It’s about the Belmonts.” 

At the sound of the accursed name both of the other men shifted their gazes into dower glares. “Right.” The left man spoke. “We should go then.”

Adrian gave a small chuckle. “Don’t be so sullen now Hector, Father will think I said something terrible.” 

Hector didn’t have time to return the smile before Isaac was up out of his chair and ushering them both out of the room. “We will see you some other time then, young Mr. Tepes.” The right man called back to him. “And please, give our regards to the woman at the front desk when you pass, and remind her of her meeting at 7.”

“Of course, maybe I should pick up laundry and groceries along the way?” he called after them, but his snarky remark fell on no ears as they were already out of sight. Yawning, Adrian stretched a bit, he looked around the small office and thought for a moment about perusing through the piles of paperwork stacked on both of the desks. And then remembered Isaac would have his head on a platter, son of the boss or not. So he straightened his suit jacket and left back down the opposite direction of the hall, towards the elevator. He passed several more small offices, some of the people occupying them peeking from the small windows to get a good look at him. But none engaged him in conversation, so he kept walking.

The hall opened into a small waiting area in front of the elevator, for the assumed ‘clients’ of his father’s ‘insurance company’ how quaint. The pictures lining the walls were tacky at best and severely dated at worst. He hated the decor of this place. In a few strides, he crossed the space to the elevator, pressing the button. The bell rang for the elevator’s arrival and he quickly stepped in, eager to be rid of this place.

 

-0-

 

You check your watch, it wasn’t even five yet. And you still had a large stack of papers to file before you left today. There hadn’t been much traffic in the lobby today either, so no free entertainment for you. A profound  _ ding _ echoes from across the room and your eyes snap up despite yourself, eager for something to do. The doors slide open, and Adrian steps out in his Italian-made suit, his shoes clicking on the glossy tile floor. You slump back into your seat, this isn’t really what you had in mind for entertainment. It only takes him a few short strides to get to your desk, and you try to avoid contact as he leans over the edge, gazing at you with one of his more annoying faces.

You sigh. “What is it Adrian?” You avoid eye contact and aimlessly shift about your workspace, trying your best to look like you were actually doing something. “I’m trying to work here.”

“Oh yes, it seems very involved and um, complicated.” He giggled to himself. “Please, tell me more about this ‘work’ you’re doing.”

You sigh again, louder and more obvious this time. “Alright, so I might not be doing anything relevant at the moment.” You look at the smirk in his eyes, rage starting to bubble up. “But I do want to know what you want from me.”

“Isaac and Hector say ‘hello’.” He snides. 

“Is that all?”

“They wanted me to remind you of your meeting at seven.” His smile is wide and insincere and lingers a bit too long before he stands with a flourish of his hair. You barely have time to voice your distaste and that you already  _ know _ you have a meeting, but he’s already sauntering through the front doors, golden hair flowing behind him. And you are left to sit at your desk, once again bored out of your mind.


	2. The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You leave for your meeting.

You check your watch again, it was getting close to the end of your day, the only thing left was to get to your meeting and get out of this godforsaken place. When you were offered this position to stay close to the rest of the ‘company’ you didn’t imagine that it would be this boring. You were a woman of skill and absolutely none of them were being used here. It was enough to just make you take that elevator to the top floor and toss yourself off the roof. There wasn’t much on your desk to begin with, but you straighten the few loose papers there and head across the lobby, stopping to look out onto the busy street, contemplating whether or not to just leave for the day, damn the consequences. But then you remember Isaac and make your way to the elevator.

You wait across from the elaborate desk, eyes shifting from the large coffee stain on the desk-cover to the stack of unfiled papers that you will surely be responsible for later. You keep your hands neatly held at your waist, knowing full well that it is not your place to touch anything. And that Hector does an in-depth inventory of the offices every day. He’s never been late before… You haven’t been waiting long, but even a few minutes over his scheduled time was strange for him. Isaac kept his day pretty well-stacked. The lighting of the room was dim, a single lamp was on in the corner of the room casting the office in a foreboding reddish-yellow glow. Your eyes wandered from the desk to the paintings on the left wall, the gory classical depictions of death and war making your stomach churn. Was this room always so...strange? You decide to take a chance and read the papers, if only just to get a sense of why you’re here. You take a cautionary glance around the room, but just when you lean over to take the slightest look at the densely packed words on the page, the click of the door handle chimes and the mahogany structure swings open. You snap back into your original position and replace your hands, going static.   
“Ah, there you are my dear.” A cool voice speaks, not fitting the atmosphere of the room, and despite the red flags going up in your head, you relax a little and drop your shoulders. “Excuse my lateness, I had a meeting with Isaac and Hector in the cold room upstairs.” He closes the door behind him. “Employee loyalty is so…” You hear the heavy pat of his boots on the floor as he moves around your body to face you, leaning against the broad side of the desk. “Hard to find, I suppose. No matter, I have called you here for a different reason.” Vlad towered over you, your form dwarfed by the sheer size of him. For a moment, there was a twinge of fear in your gut, but it was pushed down when you saw he was smiling.   
“Of course sir.” You say clearly, confidence soaring as he smiled a bit wider. He was wearing one of his dark tailored suits with the glossy black trench coat, which glowed under the dim light of the lamp.   
“Yes, of course.” He reached claw-like fingers to pick up a piece of paper from the pile. Offering it to you. You take it, turning it over in your hands.  
“That is a requisition of your services, Pre-payment has already been sent to your account.”  
You read the first few lines: a taller, tanned man, who lived on the west side. Goes by the name ‘Belmont’. “May I ask…” You flip over the page. “Why?”  
He chuckled warmly, and it rang in the silence of the room, “Now (Y/N), you know you’re not supposed to ask questions like that. It’s not in your job description.” He stood up from the desk, moving to rest his large hands on your shoulders. You shiver, both at the mention of your name and cold that bloomed from his palms.   
“You aren’t supposed to know that.” You whisper, eyes flitting about to avoid his gaze. You are a trained professional! You think to yourself. You should be able to look at your own client in the eye! You take a gulp of breath and shift your eyes to look at him, his piercing gold gaze fondly washing down upon you.   
“I’m not supposed to know many things.” He says, letting his chilly hands glide down the width of your shoulders, his nails lightly grazing into your arms. He stepped back, walking around the side of the desk and then behind it. Moving towards a previously unseen curtain, shoving it aside to look down at the city. The blue light contrasted with that of the lamp, the luminescent signs and buildings below flickering inconsistently on his face. “Like how the mayor was once a Mormon with a fifteen-year-old wife, or how the priest at Targoviste murders those he deems as ‘sinners’.” He stroked a hand through his mustache. “The point is darling that there are issues that I need to take care of as the patriarch of this city, and the man you are to dispose of there is a cornerstone of my plans moving forward.” He turns back to you. “Is that clear enough for you?”  
You nod sheepishly, praying that your professional instincts would return to you soon. “(Y/N). It’s such a lovely name for such a violent profession.” He smiles again and moves to sit at his desk. “Although it seems these days that we all deal in the art of death. Perhaps…” he steeples his fingers, gazing out over them to look you up and down. “Once this is all over, this patriarch could have a use for a matriarch.” You melt under his scrutiny and blush, the paper in your hands trembling.   
“I will do as you ask Mr. Tepes.” You say, voice shaking.  
“See that you do, Ms. (Y/N).”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So im posting this from my phone, so if there any issues let me know! Leave a comment if you like, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You head home after work.

The apartment was cold when you got home, which wasn’t unheard of but it almost made you shiver when you crossed the threshold of your door. Your work bag felt heavy on your shoulder and your eyes drooped. But it was all fine now, you were home. All the lights were off, just as you had left it, and you stand still for a moment and listen for any movement in the apartment other than your own. You could never be too careful. There was a small, soft chirp coming from the living room, signifying that Sunny had woken up. With a sigh, you set your bag down on the coffee table next to the door, kick off your pointed toe shoes, and make your way to the living room after getting a quick peek at the kitchen, debating on whether this was a good time for dinner. You don’t flick on any of the lights, just relying on the dim shine of streetlights through the window was enough for you for right now.

Sunny was in her cage on her own special table in the far corner of the room, lazily preening at her feathers. Her visage makes you smile, the one little thing that really makes it worth coming home to every day. Despite the cleanliness of her cage, you realize the rest of the living room was starting to get messy. Clothes and towels were just tossed onto the couch and your equipment was spilling out over the edges of the coffee table. Gun oil was spilled, you had probably knocked it over when you were rushing to work this morning, and had most likely had soaked into the wood by now. The other parts of the rifle lay scattered on the table, along with various other cleaning supplies you used. You make a vague note to yourself to clean later, but you really doubt you will. Sunny chirps again, warming your heart, and you cross the room, avoiding old cups and other garbage to open her cage. “There’s my sweet girl.” You coo and reach into the small space to stroke the bright yellow feathers around her neck, and she warbles a little but refuses to leave her cage. You decide to leave her alone for the night, so you head back to the front of your apartment and grab your work bag. It was well-worn leather, with knicks and scratches all up along its sides and strap, but it meant a lot to you, after all of this time. You make a place on the couch for yourself by pushing aside some of the old clothes and sit in front of the paraphernalia scattered across the small table. You open your bag, pulling a sheet of paper out. The picture printed on it was pretty low resolution, but you’d be doing your own research anyway. It was a good enough start. The man in the photo was just walking down the street, surrounded by a crowd of people, if it weren’t for the obnoxious red circle you probably wouldn’t have realized it was him. Underneath the picture was a brief description of the man, and some possible workplaces and hangouts. This ‘Belmont’ character didn’t really seem that interesting, or at least interesting enough for Mr. Tepes to be concerned. You move some of the gun parts out of the way and set the paper down, avoiding the spilled gun oil. 

Sighing, you start re-assembling your rifle. Practiced hands twist and lock metal together and the smell and sound bring you closer to calm with every piece added to the whole. It was like clockwork for you now, to take this piece of equipment apart and put it back together, so much so that your mind wanders. Back to Mr. Tepes as always. Something changed, he was always a shameless flirt but lately it was getting much more...sincere. It made your stomach twinge, that a man such as he would even set his gaze upon you. You screw in the silencer and you brief respite from reality is over as you finally look down at the sniper rifle in your hands. You take one last look at the Belmont and set the gun down. You’ll begin working on tomorrow, for now, you needed sleep. With a yawn, you stand up and head for the bedroom.

Once you enter all the day’s stress melts away, and you finally let the tension in your shoulders drop. You take a good look around, soaking in the room’s atmosphere but you snap back to attention when you realize something was wrong. The bed was made. Not just made but  _ fresh  _ looking. As if one of those maids at a hotel had come in for housekeeping. In fact, the room was quite pristine. No clothes or shoes out of place, your alarm clock was placed back on the nightstand, and the window was open. The window? You  _ always _ lock down your apartment when you leave, there is no way that the window should be open.  _ Unless… _ you check around the room again, and your eyes fall back on the nightstand. There was a small folded piece of paper there. You step forward cautiously, checking around the room and still listening for movement. The light flickered on the object and you could see it had a decorated wax seal adorning the top fold. Picking it up, you turn it over in your hand. On the back, in his neatly scrawled handwriting was the author’s name.  _ Hector _ . Rolling your eyes you flip it back over and slide your nail under the seal, popping it open. It’s contents fold outward, and a handwritten note is on the inside. 

 

_ (Y/N) I apologize for the intrusion, but Mr. Tepes was pressed to host a Gala next week. Isaac and I will be occupied during this time, so you must attend. _

__ __ __ __ __ __ __

__ __ __ __ __ __ _ Hector _

Let it never be said that you were a lucky woman. With a frustrated groan, you toss the note aside and slam the window closed.  _ Isn’t this just peachy… _ You finally crawl into bed, exhausted and infuriated, and curl up and drift into a wistful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting from my phone again, this was written after some other chapters so if you have a suggestion that'd be great! Leave a comment if you like or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're invited to the estate for a special task.

You’re trying desperately to stop your hands from shaking on the wheel of the car, palms sweating onto the polished leather wheel cover; making it slick and unmanageable. Breathe (Y/N). I just need to breathe. Lights start appearing on your left, glowing in the late night darkness. The estate comes into view, obscured only barely by the large iron fence protecting the perimeter. You make your way to the gate, headed by Ernie, one of the night guards. He’s standing in a small booth, just high enough so that he could look directly into your window as you pull up. He gives you a thumbs up when your car stops just in front of the gate, and he presses a button off somewhere to his right. There’s a loud mechanical beep and the iron cages start to rise. Breathe… You pull in slow, counting you exhale as the villa draws closer. On either side of you, there are rows and rows of impeccable trees and budding rosebushes. The paved driveway was a lopsided circle and more and more of the lawn and home was revealed. 

A dark figure was looming over the front steps, their face was hard to make out in the darkness, but his presence was undeniable. You pull up to the mansion, across from the fountain and face the front steps. He still stood there, his shadow even darker than the surrounding night. Was he waiting for me? The bubbling fountain broke the silence, but you still felt as though you should speak. Your work boots clack on the pavement as you exit your car, you could see his eyes now, the smoldering amber baring into your soul. 

“I came as quickly as possible Mr. Tepes. What was the hurry?” You look him up and down, no visible injuries, he didn’t look to be out of his mental capacities, he even had a smile on his face. 

“Please, come inside, we have much to discuss.” He gestured towards the artisan wooden doors. 

“Of course sir.” You chime and slam your car door shut. It wasn’t like him to make social calls or call you at all, now that you think about it. His eyes are locked on you as you ascend the stairs and the grin on his face becomes even more apparent. He gestures again to the door and you eagerly follow as he opens it for you and you’re greeted by the expanse of the foyer.

Compared to his office, this place felt like heaven. It was filled with light and color, paintings lined the walls from top to bottom and the largest staircase you’ve ever seen sat comfortably in the center of it all. Vlad stepped into the light as well, he had forgone his usual suit in favor of a soft cotton shirt and dress pants, exposing much more of his chest and arms but it didn’t register with you for a moment as you were too distracted by a larger-than-life portrait of the man hanging along the wall. It smiled out at you, worried creases are gone from his face, replaced by miles of soft-looking porcelain skin, the embroidery of his silk shirt was extremely detailed, it was quite breathtaking. “Do you like it?” 

You nearly jump as you feel the ghost of his breath brush along the back of your neck, but when you step back to look at him he was standing farther than you had anticipated. Realizing your mistake, you blush. “Yes, it’s quite a lovely painting sir.” 

“I could commission one for you if you’d like.” He steps closer, closing the front door behind him. “The painter is a very dear friend of mine.”

“Thank you, sir, but I feel I have to decline.” You cast a glance back up to the painting, then back to him. “I couldn’t even imagine having to sit for that long.”

Another step forward. “You acclimate to it, after a time.” He smiles again, a bit wider this time and you are immediately reminded of his party nearly a week ago. How soft his lips were, and how cold. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you turn away, keeping your face composed. “But of course, I had a reason to call you here.” he gestures upstairs. “Please follow me.” 

You both are silent as he navigates up the stairs and through the wide halls of his estate. Each hall you passed was only sparsely lit by various reddish tinted sconces, giving it the glow much like the one from his office. The familiarity made you comfortable in the way. “Here.” He spoke, jerking you from your thoughts.

He opened the door to a wide room with a large couch sitting in the middle. Plants and paintings lined both sides of the room, and on the far wall were several plate glass windows looking out over the garden. Crystalline chandeliers hung from the ceiling, reflecting light in sparkling spots across the room. “Oh wow…” You whispered to yourself in a dreamy state.

“Please sit, make yourself comfortable.” He set a hand on the curve of your shoulder, soothing you with his voice. You’d love to sit, that car ride had done a number on your back, but something was off. Something was very off.

“Sir,” You start, trying to be as apologetic as possible. “I appreciate your kindness, but I really must ask you what is going on here.” You turn to face him as he shuts the door, and his eyes are filled with nothing but mirth. 

“Am I not allowed to invite a woman to my home?”

“I’m hired muscle sir, I don’t have a lot of expertise outside of that.” You feign your best stern look, folding your arms across your chest. 

“Oh, now I definitely know that can’t be true.”

“Mr. Tepes-”

“Vlad, please.”

“Vlad,” You emphasize. “Please understand the position I’m in.”

“I assure you I could understand you in many positions, Ms. (Y/N).”

You can’t help yourself, this was getting ridiculous. You just start to laugh, absurdity bubbling up inside you as you laugh your heart out half as much from your nervousness as your realization that Vlad Tepes had invited you to his home for a social call.

“Have I missed something?” He asked, chuckling to himself. He steps close to you, resting both hands on your shoulders. You stop laughing for a moment, your eyes gazing up into his, you shake your head.

“What are you doing?” You ask both with disbelief and sarcasm. “Jesus, what am I doing?”

“I’m hoping it involves you being ravished over on that couch.”

You laugh again as he steps even closer, one of his large hands sliding down to wrap around your waist. He doesn’t hesitate as he pulls you close for a kiss, and even through your excessive giggling, you wrap your arms around him, giving into the absurdity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating like a madman. Fake gamer girl here.


	5. A Meeting in the Lounge Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a meeting.

Absurdity begets absurdity and you allow yourself to be consumed by the feeling of him encircled around you and how ridiculous it seemed that this was your life now. And he was so warm and so cold at the same time and he assaulted your lips like a starving man to a feast and you have never felt like so much want in the movement of someone’s hands before. Your hands fist in the Italian made silk shirt and force him closer to you, swallowing every inch of himself he was giving you and more.  

“The lounge, my dear.” He whispers when you separate for air. “Allow me.” He hooks a hand around your waist as you fervently nod your head and you both clamor for the crushed velvet lounge. Clothes surround the chair in a mock ritual circle by the time your back hits the soft fabric, stone-cold pale hands are on your exposed thighs now, positioning your legs in such a way so that he could settle between them comfortably. You could breathe now, your ministrations paused for the time being. He was poised above you, both your undergarments were still on, although your bra was beginning to slip down your shoulder. His eyes were a different shade of amber, but you supposed that the lighting in the room had seemed to shift was the cause. You were panting, and so was he, nothing was said, but you all assumed that there was just nothing to say. He raised a hand to cup your cheek and your eyes closed to lean into his hand, but he dragged the hand down your jawline, across your collarbone and in-between your breasts, making you shiver, down your stomach, below your navel, and he stops just before he reaches the panty line and moves to the side to snake under the strip of cloth keeping your underwear around your hips. Your breath hitches as you feel his cold hand twine the fabric around it for a moment, and you almost yelp in surprise when you both hear and feel it snap with a pull of his hand.

“Wha--” You start, but he shoves the rest of the cloth of your underwear aside before reaching a hand between your legs to the pool of wetness there. His mouth covers yours then, as you cry out when a finger enters you. He swallows your moans as he works his finger, adding another and curling them just so, so that all you could do was moan and spread your legs as much as possible. His hand fisted in a dark net of curls and  _ pulled  _ wrenching you free from his lips and you cry out again. His fingers and dripping with you all over them, and the rhythmic squelching noise it makes eggs you both on as you come close to completion. But suddenly there’s nothing, absence. All the sounds and colors you swore you could  _ feel _ are gone with his fingers and there’s only a slight pause before you could hear the movement of more fabric. You don’t speak, but wait and want as he pulls away your underwear from your leg and positions himself back between your legs. 

“Shh…” he whispers as he takes you by the hips and pulls you into his lap and you feel his hard-on pressing into the crook of your crotch and your thigh. Your breath is coming out even heavier and even harder. Your eyes are screwed shut in anticipation and you do nothing but listen and feel him position his member over your clit, his free hand bruising the skin on your hips. He then leans in close to your ear, the ghost of his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Are you ready my dear?” He whispers in your ear and you nod furiously when his cock presses hard against your clit for a moment before slicking into your vagina.

It was bigger than it seemed, your walls expanded to their limit and the friction it made when he readjusted himself was delightful. You sigh in pure bliss as his peppers soft bites and kisses down your neck, his mustache nearly making you giggle as it pressed against you. But the softness is halted when his hips snap forward and he seats himself against the curve of your ass, your eyes flying open and you convulse in pleasure, he laughs coarsely in your ear. You hook your nails into the skin on his back to steady yourself as he sets a brutal pace. Holding you in place with strong powerful hands as you are left to just be rutted into. It wasn’t long before his movements became more erratic and his lips became more desperate. The harsh pace and the bruises lining up and down your chest and neck had you close as well, and you were beyond sure that you were dripping down the couch and your legs by now. Suddenly he slams forward with a low grunt, and you bloom with heat. He says something to you, but you are blinded deafened by your own orgasm following his, spasming and throwing yourself back so that you gripped the lounge with every bit of might you could possibly expend.

 

-0-

 

You wake with an ache between your thighs and thick fog clouding your head. You slept comfortably, all your limbs sunken into the soft sheets and mattress. Wait, mattress? You weren’t here before. You stretch a little under the fluffy comforter covering you, digging your fingers and toes into the sheets. Your hair is a tangled mess on the silken pillows, you squint as your eyes are bombarded with pink tinted light from the plate glass windows covered by red curtains. You try and sit up but the covers slide off your body and you realize you were naked under, blushing in a panic to pull them back up and cover yourself. 

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” His voice breaks the cloud over your head as he steps into the room, the heavy oak door closing behind him. “You were sleeping pretty heavily.” He was wearing a long black robe, making him look even more like a stone statue. His hair was mussed, or as mussed as it could be given that his hair still seemed somewhat perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just smut pretty much. Vlad is a bit frisky. Enjoy. Leave a comment if you like, or if you want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	6. Several Chandeliers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start to question why you're here in the first place.

“I didn’t think you’d be awake so early.” He mused, smiling. “I had planned on making breakfast, is there any particular way you like your eggs?” 

Your thought black out for a moment before you stutter out something along the lines of ‘whatever you want.’ He takes the answer and smiles again, disappearing behind the large door. 

You’re left alone again, swimming in the large bed. It’s the first time you realize you’re actually still pretty tired. The muscles in your back and thighs are remarkably sore, and you want nothing more than to stay warm under the covers; however, you can’t shake the sinking feeling that you aren’t supposed to be here. Last night felt like a dream, something that would dissipate into a fond memory by morning. But you’re still here, and that leaves you...conflicted.

This is, not just your boss, but  _ the _ boss. And you were in his bed, stark naked, and alone. You felt uncharacteristically small as you sit up more proper and your anxiety begins to grow as the possible implications of you being here flood your thoughts.

This could be a tactical move, he might have to ask you for an extremely difficult favor,  hence the need to bed you. It could also be a prevention tactic, maybe someone else was trying to move into the territory, and intending to hire you, but he wanted you in his pocket before that happens.

There could be a grain of truth to any of these theories and you value your life and independence too much to ignore any of them. You take another good look around the room. Anywhere in here could be bugged. You have to be careful now, it may be too late to pull out of the game, so you better start playing it properly.

You tighten your fist around the sheets and pull it with you as you make your way off the bed. It’s to the vanity next, searching for clothes along the floor before realizing the carpet is immaculate. Did he take them? Is this part of the plan? 

You panic a little until your eyes set upon the chair sitting adjacent to the vanity mirror. It was neatly folded and set in the exact middle of the cushion. It had a note propped up against it. You look around the room again  _ Is it really bugged? _ before picking it up.

On it, in tiny flowing script, were the words  _ For You. _ You were only partially sure it was meant as a gesture of generosity. You set the note down on the floor and pick up the folded garment, letting it unfurl, revealing a hand-embroidered silk robe in white, decorated in a meticulously designed floral pattern. You should be overjoyed to receive a gift like this, it was not only expensive but well made. But it just makes you were nervous; each and every step you take this seems more like a ruse.

But, as before, this wasn’t your game anymore. You let the sheet drop and it pools around your ankles as you slip on the robe. It’s quite comfortable, and as you turn in the mirror, you can’t help but smile at the way it hugs your curves.

There’s a soft knock at the door. You freeze and hold yourself around the waist, keeping your robe in place. “Miss? Are you in there?” Another few soft knocks at the door. “ Miss? Mr. Tepes has made breakfast for you!” Has he really been gone that long? My god the day was just racing by already.

The older woman’s voice was a bit frantic, and you rushed to the door to open it before she had to knock again. The maid was a head shorter than you and looked as though she had seen a mauling on the way to the door. Not entirely unlikely.

“Oh goodness! There you are, Mr. Tepes is waiting for you downstairs with breakfast dear, and hurry before it gets cold.” Her smile is quick and faint and it disappears when she turns back down the hall and you are left alone again.

You look into the room again, it would be almost too easy to just crawl back into bed and forget about this. But instead, you follow the beleaguered maid down the hall.

 

The narrow walkway turns and leads back into the foyer, atop the grand staircase. His portrait still gazes down over the room. The high windows shine sunlight through the chandelier, and the crystals reflect the light in warm snowflakes across the whole room. It’s much more stunning during the day, the designer clearly had this in mind when choosing the palette with this room. The smell of warm food and cured meat finally filters up to your nostrils and you all but glide down the stairs to follow it. It leads you to the grand archway on the right; the entrance to the dining hall, full of more windows. There was another, smaller, chandelier in this room. The table was set with an uncountable amount of chairs and the centerpiece was billowing in a rainbow of flowers.

“Ah! There you are!” You jumped when a door popped open to your right, and in came more smells and sounds from the kitchen. Vlad held the door open, a pleasant smile gracing his features. He gestured in as you took a step backward. “I was wondering where you were.” You followed the outstretched hand into the brightly lit kitchen It was stark white from floor to ceiling. Another chandelier in here too, a bit baroque for your tastes. The whole of the kitchen was wrapped around a circular island with a bar. He had laid out a  _ very  _ full breakfast for you both, complete with pancakes, biscuits, eggs, bacon, and the like. You now realize that you’ve been starving all morning. Excitement takes over your trepidation as you rush to the counter.

He pads behind you, smiling from ear to ear. “I see you like the robe, it's of Chinese make I believe.” He sits at a stool in front of his own plate and daintily picks up his fork, but doesn’t begin eating. You grab the other empty ceramic plate and begin piling whatever you can on it. 

“You know,” You start, sitting down on the other side of the island. “I didn’t have much of a choice. My clothes were gone.” You look up to him and his smirk is devious.

“I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about. Ms. (Y/N)” 

“Of course Mr. Tepes.”

“Vlad.”

“Right, Vlad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, long time no see huh? Leave a comment if you like, if you don't, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	7. Into the closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get your clothes back.

“Vlad?” You say, eating a bite your pancakes.

“Hm?” He didn’t look up, but rather just raised his eyebrows. 

“I do have work to do today.”

“Wonderful then, I shall join you.”

“Vlad, that really isn’t necessary.” You laugh.

“I insist, it’s been forever since I’ve been out in the field, and you can show me  _ exactly _ how you work.”

You tap your finger on your fork. And so he shows a little of his hand.  Sure Vlad was a lovely man, but you weren’t exactly used to working with a partner, or an observer even.  _ Play the game _ you think to yourself and smile. “Of course Vlad.”

He smiled back at you. “Wonderful.”

The two of you finished your breakfast menagerie in relative silence, enjoying the presence of the other. He called for the maids when you both clean your plate, and two pinched and disgruntled women waltz in as he ushered you out of the room. “Grimshaw and Alahaven, sweet women, just very serious about their jobs.” He whispered to you as a cacophony of dishes struck up in the kitchen. You’re both standing in the archway of the kitchen in your silken robes.

“I’m having the maid bring your clothes to my bedroom, I have a call to make.” He says, resting his palms on your shoulders. You furrow your brows a little, knowing his sentence held none of the innocence his voice implied. But then a cool hand cupped your cheek, his hand sliding to cradle the tip of your chin. He tilts you head up to look in his eyes. He’s smiling down on you. “Try not to miss me too much.” And he plants a kiss on your forehead. In a whir, he turned and left the room. 

You absentmindedly tug at the ties of your silken robe, letting your eyes wander around the foyer. Now that he was gone, the room felt bigger. The paintings looked down on you with their icy glares and under their scrutiny, you hurry back to the stairs.

 

-0-

 

As promised, your old clothes are laid across the large, freshly-made bed. It helps you relax a little. You close the door behind you and let the robe fall to the floor. The garment was comfortable, beyond so in fact, but it felt freeing to have something so expensive off of your body. The weight of the money behind it, and where that money came from, was enough to make you nervous all through breakfast. Not to mention, it made you feel a bit...possessed wearing the robe, and you didn’t know what to do with that information. A pawn in his little game. You stride over to the vanity mirror and spin, eyeing your form.  _ Playing the game wouldn’t be so bad, but only if I get to be queen.  _ You smile and look back to the bed, sure enough, your old clothes are waiting there freshly washed. You almost feel the urge not to put them on, but as you said before, there was work to do today. Still, you weren’t rushing either. You walk over and pick up the suit jacket first, fondling the cloth between your fingers. It was much softer than usual.

Sighing, you put your clothes on. It was a methodical process, as many of the things you do. Each item had its own smaller routine and the order when you put it on. The familiar motions gave you a sense of clarity. The perpetual sense of drama you feel in this place wanes and you’re brought a little more into reality. All that was left now was your hair, and you walk back to the vanity to finish it.

You look a little disheveled, and surprisingly, the bags under your eyes are gone. It almost brings a smile to your face. There’s a loud creak and your whole body twists around in a panic. 

“Ah, there you are.” The door shuts behind him, and the distinct smell of lit cigar filters into the bedroom. “I didn’t think you’d still be in here.”

You force out a laugh. “Where else would I go?”

He laughs with you, his sound is a bit more genuine. “I’m not trapping you here, you’re not confined to the rooms I dictate to you.” He has a fat cigar in his mouth, and you watch as he slips off the robe, naked as the day he was born beneath it. You flush and avert your eyes, staring intently back at your face in the mirror. You hear a door open again.

Your hair isn’t cooperating with you today. You probably should have twisted it before you went to bed, but you were um, preoccupied. You sigh and let your curls be, standing up. You turn around and he’s not there. Nothing in the room has changed. 

“(Y/N) Could you come in here please?” His voice wasn’t urgent. And after a few moments of panic, he speaks again. “Behind the left side of the bedframe dear, press into the third panel up from the floor.”

You bounce over to the other side of the room, looking around the bedframe for some way to follow his instructions. Experimentally, you press against the expensive patterned wallpaper and hear a small  _ pop _ . You step back as a sliding door moved out of place, it glides comfortably into a slot in the wall. In front of you now was the doorway to Vlad’s secret walk-in closet. You can’t tell whether its extravagant or idiotic.

He’s standing in the center, proudly nude among the rows upon rows of clothes and accessories in the closet. You take a tentative step inside, marveling at how much larger it seemed. “I’m afraid I’m in need some help.”

“Help?”

“Oh yes, of course, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the normal attire for those in your profession.” His smirk is devilish, but you just shake your head.

“Of  _ course _ , Vlad.” You walk through the closet, turning your head to avoid watching his  _ unmentionables _ , as well as to avoid the gaze he had laid upon you the moment you walked in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy babes, so here is my next update! Leave a comment if you like, if you don't, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


	8. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet a bit more of the staff.

“You have quite a collection here.” You say in an aside to him. You turn your back to him ‘inspecting’ an array of silk shirts that looked to be rarely used. “Have you worn everything in here?” You ask him, making a point not turn and meet the piercing gaze boring holes into the back of your neck. But when he spoke next, his voice was much closer than you anticipated. 

“Do you like any of these? I have a rather appropriate sport jacket to go with this one.” You feel his pectorals press against your back as he reaches an arm around you to get to a soft mint green shirt in front of you. Your whole body freezes when he pulls it off the rack, bringing it close to inspect. “Would this be alright? Or do you favor something a little less...spring-y?” You barely have time to recollect your thoughts before he tuts in your ear. “No, that’s a little too vibrant, now this maroon one…” Your heart stops when you hear a ruffle of fabric as the robe drops to the floor, his other arm joins in front of you, pulling a deep red shirt off the rack and inspecting it. “This with that black sports jacket and tailored jeans…” You’re encircled in his muscles, strength surrounding you on all sides, but when you try to shrink and step away, he’s like a solid wall behind you. You’re almost positive his face is just  _ oozing _ with satisfaction. But he pulls away before you faint from embarrassment, taking the shirts with him. You’re afraid to turn around because his robe was still pooled at your feet. “Thank you for your input, (Y/N). You can head downstairs if you like.” Taking the dismiss as mercy, you scurry out of the secret closet door and out of his room, his cheerful and chiding laughter following you out the door.

 

There isn’t anyone in the foyer downstairs, but you can hear the distinct tones of conversation coming from the kitchen. The smell of sausage and fresh bagels filter into the front area, guiding you towards it. 

Adrian is perched on the kitchen counter, helping himself to his own breakfast as a few of the maids scurry around him and clean. His expression is completely blase, eyes fixated on the middle distance as he haphazardly shoved the food into his mouth. You stand there for a moment, just remembering your ‘altercation’ with his father upstairs. But before you can put your words in the right order, he notices you standing in the doorway. 

He goes through a facial journey in about two seconds, features morphing through confusion, fear, and finally landing on acceptance. “Oh, hello (Y/N).” He deadpans, his eyes clearly not sharing in the greeting. “I didn’t think I would see you here.” He takes a sip of dark coffee, looking you up and down. 

But you’ve known him too long, and you don’t crumble under his scrutiny. Squaring your shoulders, you move to sit with him at the table. “Hello to you to Adrian.” You say coyly, offering up a condescending smile. He squints but decides to leave it at that. Choosing to ignore you instead, he shoves his face back into his food.

“I’ll need a vehicle for miss (Y/N) and I. Adrian will be managing from my mansion today. If anything pertinent comes up, send the information to Isaac and he’ll relay it to Hector.” Vlad’s booming voice descends down the stairs, and you hear his shoes click on the tile floor of the entryway. Both of your heads turn to the noise as the clacking makes its way to the kitchen. “Ah, there you two are.” Vlad enters the room in a tailored jacket and the maroon shirt he was inspecting earlier. “I was just about to start yelling for you, Adrian, you’ve met (Y/N) yes?” He gestures to you with a heartwarming smile, which Adrian returns with a roll of his eyes. 

“Of course I do, her and I worked at the ‘Law Firm’ for  _ years _ .” He punctuated ‘law firm’ with flagrant air quotes. 

“I’m trusting you to oversee the work here today.” Vlad’s voice gets low, the mirthful look in his eyes absent. “No issues. Do you understand Adrian?” His son gives him an icy glare, hiding his contempt, but nonetheless nodded in recognition. “Good,” He turns to you, joy back in his eyes. He rests a hand on your shoulder. “Shall we leave then?” 

“Oh, of course.” You say nervously, standing up abruptly and adjusting your jacket on your shoulders. “I will see you at work tomorrow Adrian.” You wink to him as you leave, earning a dissatisfied groan from the younger man. Vlad ushers you out of the kitchen and back into the foyer, where two strange-looking men were standing at attention.

“Are we ready to go?” The taller man grunts. He has a thick accent, though you can’t quite tell from where, and an overall disheveled appearance. The way his predatory gaze shifts to you makes you uncomfortable, but his type are always more bark than bite. He gives you a pointed glare and you return it with one of your own.

“(Y/N), this is Mr. Godbrand.” The tall man nods and tips his cabby hat. “He’ll be driving us today, and you remember Hector yes?” Vlad gestured to both. Hector smiled brightly and adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles on his nose. He was wearing a very preppy three-piece suit in beige and didn’t seem appropriate for a day out with the Boss’ son.

“It’s good to see you again miss (Y/N).” He’s practically bouncing on his toes during the introduction.  “I’ll be here with the young Mr. Tepes today, and Godbrand here will be taking you to wherever the lady wishes.” The silver-haired man said matter of factly.

“Wonderful,” Vlad says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again. “We’ll be off then. Godbrand if you would?” He gestures to the door and the man begrudgingly opens the door for you both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long-awaited update, this is a bit of an interlude introducing some new characters, I'm going to try and get a bit heavier on plot these next few chapters so stay tuned for some new stuff.


	9. Another Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vlad tags along with you to 'work'

There’s a rather understated car parked out front, not a clunker, but definitely not expensive. Economy class, you think they’re called. It’s all black, down to the trim and grill, and you realize the customization alone is what allowed it to exist in front of such an affluent man’s home. Godbrand tries to roughly shoulder past you, but Vlad makes it a point to put his arm around you to usher you out of the way. He grumbles something obscene in a language you don’t understand, but nonetheless descends the large number of stairs. He heads to the car, pulling his keys from his pocket. “Godbrand is, an acquired taste.” He whispers to you as he guides you down the steps, and it can’t help but make you smile. You're ushered into the car, Vlad opening the door for you. 

It was beyond plush on the inside, cream white leather seats and tinted one-way windows. You sit down first, and Vlad slides in close, crowding you in with him in the smaller backseat. It was wide enough to fit both of you comfortably, but it seemed he insisted on sitting as close as possible to you. He’s so casual, the way he stretches his arm across the back seat after he closes the door, the way he asks Godbrand to pull out like this car didn’t cost your entire salary. 

“Where to, miss?” Godbrand gruffs, sneaking a glance over his shoulder. You freeze for a second as Vlad turns his eyes expectantly to you. You forgot that this ‘outing’ was entirely dedicated to you. Your notes aren’t here, you don’t even have any of your usual equipment and the painful realization hits you that you’ll have to take Vlad to your apartment.

“Um.. I…” You stutter, your jaw locking up. This is all moving exceptionally quickly and you don’t know if you’re ready. You try and remember anything,  _ anything _ at all from your notes on your latest mark, trying to save yourself the trouble of basically driving your boss directly to your home. 

“Yes, (Y/N)?” He says coolly, and it just makes your situation worse. Trevor Belmont was the mark, right? You itemize everything you think you know about the man as the car starts to approach the front gates, and it hits you like a punch to the face. 

“What do you know about a woman named Carmilla, Vlad?” You say sheepishly, adjusting yourself in your seat. He turns his head to think, his gaze searching aimlessly out the window. 

“Doesn’t she operate under me Godbrand?” He says after a moment, and he only gets an indiscernible grunt as an answer. But it’s good enough for him because he nods and turns back to you. “Why do you ask?”

You flounder out your answer, thinking back to your notes. “I believe she has knowledge of where the old Belmont’s kept their warehouse.” At the mention of it, Vlad furrows his brows. 

“Take us to her ‘office’ Godbrand, if Miss (Y/N) believes Carmilla has information, then I will take her for her word.” he makes a circling motion with his finger, and Godbrand grunts unintelligibly again.

 

The ride back into the city was therapeutic, you all fell into a comfortable silence, excluding Godbrand, who made a point to grunt and swear at any and all passersby he came across. The skyline steadily crawled into view, and more lanes and buildings lined every corner you turned past. Asphalt flew underneath the unassuming vehicle, and for a while, you forget about your worries and enjoy a very comfortable ride. 

Carmilla’s office was on the south side of town, nestled in between several other posh-looking office buildings. People cascade across the sidewalk in an unaware mass as they pulled directly up front. There are two well-dressed men stationed on either side of the front doors, wearing black and silver. They survey over the crowds of people, projecting an aura that none of the pedestrians dare invade. There’s no other identification that it was even an office building. “We’re here.” Godbrand interjects impatiently. On cue, Vlad exits, leaving the door open for you. You walk out into the open street and stare up at the building like an unabashed tourist. 

“Carmilla has her workspace on the fortieth floor, I think.” Vlad charges through the foot traffic, and it may have just been his large size, but the crowds part around him much like the two sullen guards out front. Taking a breath, you try and shift yourself into work mode: squaring your shoulders and marching up behind Vlad.

The two guards make no moves to stop him from entering, but you can see them side-eye you as you stride up behind him. The lobby was much like Vlad and Adrian’s building, grotesque baroque paintings and a silver and crystal chandelier. The pretentious decor makes you scrunch your nose, but Vlad sighs like he’s been waiting an eternity to get here. “Carmilla never had much eye for interior design.” He says before walking to the front desk. You follow behind, forgetting that it was  _ your _ job that brought you both here in the first place.

There’s a woman sitting there, tapping on an expensive-looking computer, surrounded by color-coordinated office supplies. She looked too young to be a ‘secretary’ like yourself and much too cheerful to know the actual business she was working for. Vlad rested his elbow on the counter, leaning over the desk to beam an insincere smile down at her. “Hello, my dear, could you please tell me if Miss Carmilla is in today?” the girl shrinks under his gaze, eyes going wide like a deer in headlights. 

“Um…” her voice is high-pitched and soft and she quickly turns to her computer to hide away from him. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to give out that information, sir.”

You hope he can hear your eyeroll as a predatory grin crosses his face. His smooth baritone comes out like a caress. “Tell her Vlad Tepes is here to see her.”

And it works. The girl flushes ten shades of red before scrambling to her computer, typing away at the polished keys. In seconds the phone at her desk rings. In a flustered rush, she picks it up. “Yes?... No, I don’t believe there was an appointment...Yes, ma’am. I’ll send them right away.”

Vlad turns and sneaks a wink to you as the girl stands up and flattens the front of her dress. “She’s in her office.” The girl squeaks. “I’ll take you there.” As she makes her way around, he gestures for you to follow first as the receptionist makes her way to the elevator. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO so I finally am getting to the main part of my plot. It took me forever but hey, what can you do? So from this point on, I'm going to be a lot more story and plot-focused. Of course, I will sprinkle in smut and fluff here and there but we are gonna have some STORY baby. Leave a comment if you like, or if you just wanna call me a fake gamer girl.


	10. Her Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of you begin to interrogate Carmilla.

The young girl is visibly nervous; she walks like there is an uncomfortable pole strung up her back. She stays silent save for the authoritative clack of her heels on the white marble floors. You and Vlad stayed a few paces behind until she stopped at the polished glass doors of the elevator. She pauses for a second without moving, and the two of you exchanged a look. “I am sorry I didn’t recognize you, Mr. Tepes. It was a rude oversight.” Her tiny voice was shaking as if the wrath of the gods would come down on her at any moment. A stark difference from her cherry visage earlier. Which, now that you’re thinking about it, makes a bit of sense. 

“You don’t have to apologize, my dear.” He says coolly, “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” He strides up to stand next to the woman, and she slinks away from his shadow. Like his very presence was a sin counted against her soul. 

“It’s inexcusable sir.” She says with an air of finality and reaches down to pull a ring of keys from her belt loop. You look back to her desk, was anyone else going to show up while you all were gone? But the question is answered for you when you see another woman in her place, same outfit and all, typing away at her computer like she had been there the whole time. You almost grab Vlad to let him now but she presses the button on the elevator doors and they slide open. You give one last fevered look back to the reception desk before stepping in behind the girl.

On the inside, you’re surrounded by floor to ceiling mirrors, the monotony is broken up only by the large black panel of buttons. The receptionist takes her key and puts in a slot in the panel, and the elevator shakes with life. She steps back and goes completely static, holding her hands at her waist. It’s completely silent as the three of you ascend.

When you arrive at her floor, the rigid glass doors slide open with a definitive  _ clunk _ and it opens into a hallway with more garish decor than you thought a single person would be able to handle. Baroque cameos and paintings line the walls. Billowing displays of tiny white flowers sit at the center of each of the several hall tables. You step out of the elevator and take a moment to absorb the grandiose nature of it all, critical and in awe at the same time. Several other doors line the hallway, but the lights behind the windows are dark. Vlad, unfazed by the odd choice in decor, bounds his way down the hall, to the largest and most imposing door at its opposite end. The receptionist hurries into a trot behind him, and you are left to bring up the reluctant rear, gliding past other smaller, unlit offices. You slow down as you pass each door, trying to catch a glimpse of the offices inside, but only darkness meets your curiosity. Your skin starts to prickle as you get closer to the door, but you’ve dealt with these types before, so you take a deep breath and bound up to the other two. 

Vlad raps on the heavy door, and it echoes out into the hall, and you swear you hear stirring behind you, but it's drowned out by the receptionist shushing you both. Boldly, she ushers Vlad out of the way to pull out another key from her belt, a card in fact and holds it up to the door. A click and a beep resonate from somewhere farther in, and the door swings open of its own accord.

 

On the other side, a cold-looking, well-kept woman is sitting at her desk as the grey urban skyline acts as her backdrop. Her fingers are neatly steepled under her chin, and her scowl could make milk curdle. Her hair is a platinum white-blonde, mirroring that of the receptionist. 

“Carmilla!” Vlad snides as he strides through the door and past the fearful girl cowering in his shadow. “It’s wonderful to-”

“Cut the formalities, Mr. Tepes.” She hisses. “What do you want and why are you here.” She stands up, and you shudder to think of how much that three-piece pantsuit costs. She walks around to the other side of her desk, sitting up against it and crossing her arms.

His pleasant facade subsides, and he drops his hands with a flair. “Always so uninviting.” He gestures for you to join him in front of her, and you brazenly step forward, smiling to the girl as you pass. Carmilla sneers, eyeing you up and down and then looks to Vlad.

“Good Afternoon Ms. Carmilla.” You say.

“Hmph.” You can hear the upturn of her nose in her voice.

Great, it doesn’t look like this is going to be pleasant. Not that you were planning on a powwow over tea. “I have some questions for you regarding the Belmonts.”

Her already piercing scowl furrows further and she looks to Vlad again for an explanation. “Is there a reason for these questions Vlad? And who is this?”

“Her name isn’t important right now.” He growls with an unexpected bite in his voice. “If you answer them  _ honestly _ then we won’t have a problem.” 

She scoffs but begrudgingly gestures to the two velvet chairs at the front of her desk for the two of you to sit. “You are dismissed Evelyn, let your replacement go back to her post.” The girl nods and hurries out of the room. You both take your places in front of Carmilla’s desk. “Now, ask your questions.”

“I have sources that lead me to believe you know the location of the old Belmont storage building.” You say matter-of-factly, not wanting to beat around the bush with someone like her.

“I have  _ possible _ locations yes.” She sneaks another glance at Vlad. “But I do not have access to them.”

“How did you discover these locations?” 

“I knew a man from Gresit who remembered the family, it didn’t take much to get the information from him.” 

She’s lying, you can tell, but that minor detail wasn’t important now. “I need this list of possible locations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! I have finally worked out the last few kinks in the plot for the rest of this story, but woo!! chapter 10! I appreciate everyone who has been reading this far, and let's raise a glass to hopefully many more. Leave a comment if you like, if you don't or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.

**Author's Note:**

> This has already been on my Tumblr for a while, I just took all the pieces and did some refining after I stuck them all together. This is my next big work so keep an eye out for updates! Leave a comment if you like, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


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